


[untitled]

by izzybeth



Category: U2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzybeth/pseuds/izzybeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Quit being such a girl," he says, and Dave, offended on behalf of her entire gender, grabs their insane creation and gets on a bus to Artane with her brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[untitled]

**Author's Note:**

> inspired (maybe too much) by [this](http://idyll.livejournal.com/tag/my+fic:+series:+not+a+pretty+girl) and prodded along by jigofspite and fairestcat.

\---  
1976

Dick sees the notice on the board at school, and convinces Dave to go get the contraption they built that vaguely resembles a guitar. Dave has reservations about it, but Dick refuses to hear any argument. "Quit being such a girl," he says, and Dave, offended on behalf of her entire gender, grabs their insane creation and gets on a bus to Artane with her brother.

At the first sight of Larry Mullen's kitchen, Dave wants nothing more than to cut and run. There's Larry himself next to a little drum kit, there's a boy with a huge blond afro and a bass guitar, there are two more boys at the table that Dave doesn't know, and that must be Paul Hewson, whose reputation precedes him. There are no other girls. The boy with the afro had seemed to be the object of everyone's attention because of his crazy hair and odd hippie clothes, but only until Dick shoves Dave through the door. Then everyone stares at her.

"Hello," Dick says, with the confidence of one who knows he's the oldest. "I'm Dick Evans, and this is my sister Dave."

The two boys at the table laugh quietly. _Ignore, ignore, ignore,_ Dave thinks. "Hi," she says.

Larry makes the introductions-- the boy with the afro is Adam, and the rude boys at the table are Ivan and Peter. "So, what do you do, then?" Paul asks.

"We play guitar." Dick gestures at the electric deathtrap Dave is white-knuckling. "Dave and I built that."

"Did you really? Fascinating," says Adam, looking at the guitar (and not at Dave, which she appreciates).

Paul has a beat up old acoustic guitar that looks like he found it in a gutter somewhere, and he's dead set on being lead guitarist. Dave really has no problem with that until they decide to try their hands at an old Beatles tune, and it turns out that Paul doesn't actually know a single chord. She's got more faith in Adam, who sounds like he knows what he's talking about, and at least looks the part.

Larry makes a tremendous noise on his little kit, and suddenly they hear giggling and shrieking from his back garden. A few neighborhood girls are peeking through the hedge, drawn to their racket, which is exciting, if cacophonous. Larry drops his drumsticks and picks up the garden hose, aiming it at the intruders, but the girls catch sight of Dave with the homemade guitar, and all at once they shut up, murmur amongst themselves, and retreat from Larry's garden.

And suddenly everyone's looking at her again.

There's dead silence, and then Larry grins. "It's the perfect defense against mad groupies!" He pulls a face and colors a bit. "Well done, Dave." Everyone laughs, even her.

They all leave Larry's soon after, making plans to meet again as soon as they can find a free room at school. On the bus home, Dick says, "I think that went well." Dave looks out the window, watching Dublin go by, and nods. She can't imagine anything will actually come of it, but it's something to do.

\---  
1976

Dave almost thinks it's funny, if it weren't actually kind of sad. Unlike Gill, who at thirteen is a perfect miniature lady, Dave's never really tried to be much of a girl. She tends to wear Dick's hand-me-downs, jeans, and skinny ties; she doesn't do much with her hair or even try to use makeup; and she's given up on her chest (which is flat and the butt of many of Gill's jokes) as a lost cause. And at Feedback's first proper show at the school, Paul introduces her as "Dave Evans." Afterwards, people who recognize her are surprised (to put it politely) to find out she's a girl. _A girl in a rock band? Never before has such a thing been done!_ Dave would like to point out The Supremes, Grace Slick, Joan Baez, Janis Joplin... not that anyone would listen. It's never happened in Dublin, therefore it's never happened.

And after that, a few boys at school routinely make her life difficult, shouting choice expressions at her in the corridors and calling her a few offensive names. She ignores them, doesn't retaliate in any way, and keeps to herself as much as possible. What else can she possibly do? Dave gives her bandmates credit; they try to protect her even though she's asked them specifically not to. She knows for a fact that Dick once actually punched a boy for what he said about her. She didn't witness it, but she helped hide his bruised knuckles from their mother.

Dave practices almost nonstop. She'd practice in her sleep if she could. Once Ivan and Peter are kicked out of the group, they decide that Dave should manage rhythm guitar while Dick takes lead. It was mostly the boys' decision and she's generally okay with that, though she knows she's got better chops than her brother. But when Dick fucks his hand up on that kid's face, Dave decides it's time to show them what she's got.

At rehearsal, she says she'll take over for Dick "just until his hand's better," and shows them a bit she's been working on. Her riff evolves into a jam. Larry comes up with a frenetic rhythm that works well, and Adam finds a line that not only sounds good, but that he can actually manage to play. Paul gets excited, jumps up, then collapses onto the floor with a notebook and pen, scribbling down words as fast as he can.

Eventually they all lose the plot and the jam comes to a screechy halt. Dave looks at her guitar, at her hands. _I just made that happen,_ she thinks, and smiles to herself a little.

"That was fucking brilliant," says Paul. He scratches out some words in his notebook. "So Dick, think you can play that?"

Dave loses the smile.

\---  
1977

They're on the rooftop of Project Arts and the sky is a rare and brilliant blue. Dublin's usual unpleasant summer weather has given way to a bright sun, a snapping breeze, and a sudden crazy desire in Dave to walk the edge of the roof.

"Fuck, are you insane? Get back from there!" Paul grabs at her sleeve but she's too quick for him, instead running straight toward the dropoff and stopping just in time.

She looks down into Essex Street, at the cars and the people, the wind tugging at her hair and her clothes. Dave turns, stretches her arms out, and walks the edge.

Paul watches with his mouth open until sense returns to him, and he rushes toward her and yanks her back. "Stupid eejit."

Dave laughs at him. "What? I do it all the time."

"Right, you live on the edge." Paul squints at her in the sun. "That's a good one."

"One what?"

"You need a better name in the Village, like I'm Bono Vox now. The Edge. Yeah."

"That's ridiculous." She sits down on the wall, legs dangling over the side off the roof. Bono hesitates, then joins her.

"Less ridiculous than Inchicore. Not very rock star, that. The Edge fits. With your face and all."

"My face?" Dave touches her cheek self-consciously.

"Yeah, it's all angles." He considers her face, making her blush. "Edge, I like it." Bono rubs his nose a little shyly. "And, you know, you're always right on the fringes. On the edges. You're never in the middle of anything, so quiet all the time..." He stops, and snorts a laugh. "Yeah, it's all bollocks."

"This is true. I bet it really catches on, _Bono_." Dave-- _Edge_ swings her legs, soaking up the uncommon warmth of this uncommon day.

\---  
1978

When Dik leaves the band, Edge is so ready to assume lead guitar duties. More than that, she's exhilarated, fucking thrilled to finally get her chance.

But when Paul McGuiness, their new manager, suggests that they start looking around for a replacement, it's all Edge can do to not actually throttle him, and instead calmly propose that she take over. McGuiness looks at her like the thought had never crossed his mind. Edge wouldn't be at all surprised if it hadn't. Larry, on the other hand, is nodding like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Thank God for Larry.

McGuiness looks at Edge's stony face, but continues smoothly. "You're great at the rhythm guitar stuff, of course. I think we should keep on as we've been doing, and advertise around for a new lead guitarist."

It's only Larry's hand on her shoulder that stops Edge from flying at McGuiness. "You think I can't do it." Paul smiles slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "I can, you know. Those guitar lines we had Dik play? I wrote them. You f-- you _know_ that."

"I suppose you're right, but--"

"So why don't you want me doing this?" Edge desperately wants to hit something.

McGuiness sighs. "Look, Edge, It's a simple fact, no other band in town has... female members."

"The Boy Scoutz are all girls," Adam finally says.

"They can't even play." Edge dismisses them with a roll of her eyes. She's losing her temper. "So fucking what, no one else has girls in their band? I can play, better than most of the pub bands in town. I can do it." She turns to Bono. "You've not said anything."

Bono scratches the back of his head. "I know, I just--"

"What?"

"It might not go over so well with an audience." Bono goes from defensive to apologetic. "It's not fair, and it's not right, but people won't take you seriously. They'll either think you're a gimmick or... or worse." Bono looks at Edge, looks at the set of her mouth and her narrowed eyes, and there's no way he can say the word 'slut' to her.

Edge knows what he means though, and she backs off a little. "We've got away with it so far. And I'm not saying it'll be easy. But you're all my mates, and if you've got my back, then it'll be okay." She doesn't add 'maybe'.

\---  
1979

It's their second night at the Electric Ballroom in Camden, and everything's going well. The English kids seem to be digging the Irish band, London's a hell of a fun place to kick around, and it's great experience for them. Edge thinks that maybe U2's finally getting somewhere.

After the show, they plan on doing a pub crawl since the next night is a night off. Edge notices an old, faded poster on a wall for The Who and stops to read it, letting the others go on ahead. She'll catch up. It's a clear, cold December night in this sparkling city, and she intends to enjoy every minute.

Next thing she knows, rough hands push her against the brick wall, and an ugly English face stares into hers. "You're that girl. In the band." Edge can barely nod. She's terrified and frozen. "Is that how you get yours, love, with those three nancy boys? Fucking slut." The East End accent is slurred, and Edge can smell alcohol permeating the guy's breath and clothes. His hips push nastily against hers. She wants to scream, she'd do anything to just be able to scream. Her throat is closed. "Don't even look like a proper girl. Got any tits under there at all? Dyke. Disgusting." He practically spits out the last two words with stinking breath. One cold hand worms its way under her coat and shirt and gropes around. Edge finally unfreezes, thank God.

Her knee comes up and connects with the attacker's crotch without her even thinking about it. She allows herself a moment while he's doubled over, yelling in pain, before she hauls back and punches him in the nose when he comes at her again. He falls to the ground, snarling curses at her, and Edge runs as fast as she fucking can.

She makes it back to their flat, and is impossibly relieved to see the rest of the band outside, talking in a little knot.

"She might still be back at the gig."

"She wouldn't stay behind, not without telling us."

"Well-- where _is_ she?"

"Suppose we ought to start looking."

Adam's back is to her, so she taps him on the shoulder. "Hi."

He turns around, and folds her up in a hug so tight she's worried about breathing. "Where the hell were you!"

Everyone else hugs her (or pats her on the shoulder, in Paul's case). And Larry asks, "Well, Edge? What happened?"

She gives the barest account of events that she can, omitting the really unpleasant details. They all look at her with shocked expressions. She swallows hard. "I'm fine, though." Paul has that calculating look, like he wants to send the police after this guy, and prosecute well beyond the full extent of the law. Bono and Larry just look like they want to do some violence of their own.

Adam puts a tentative hand on Edge's shoulder. "Come on, let's get you upstairs." She nods and lets him guide her up to the rooms, but pauses when she sees her right hand on the banister. The knuckles are smeared with blood. Edge hopes she broke the guy's nose.

\---  
1981

Edge wakes to pounding on the motel room door. She grumbles incoherently, drags herself out of bed, and stomps over to the door. "All right! I'm coming!" She flips the lock and opens the door to see Adam, fumbling with the room key, a loose fist resting on the cheap wood of the doorframe.

"Hi, Edge." Adam smiles the smile of the drunk and happy. "Thanks for... yeah, hi." Edge backs off and he lurches into the dark room. "What time'sit?"

Edge turns on a lamp and closes the door. "Almost three. You have fun?"

"Yeah, yeah, met some gr--" Adam bumps into Edge's bed and sits down on it. "Great people, had fun, yes." He bends over and pulls at the laces on his boots.

"Good." Edge climbs back under the blankets and curls up on her side, away from Adam. She settles in, closes her eyes, and flinches away when she feels him snuggle up behind her. "Adam!"

"You're pretty." Edge can hear the contented smile in his voice, feel his breath on the back of her neck.

Oh, fuck. She's not even touching that one. "Adam, we talked about this." Edge pushes the covers back and sits up. "You can't be doing this. You have to sleep in your bed."

"But--"

The look on Adam's face makes Edge feel like she just told him Santa doesn't exist. "Before we went on tour, we talked, remember? You said you could deal with... the situation."

"Can't afford a room for you."

"No, we can't. And we both said we were okay with sharing."

"Yeah." Adam traces the ugly pattern on the blanket with a finger.

"So you have to go sleep in your bed now."

"Yeah." Adam doesn't move. Edge shoves him off the bed onto the floor, making him whine a little. "Ow."

"Good night, Adam."

Edge doesn't lie down again until Adam gets into his own bed and pulls the slippery top blanket over his head. Then she switches off the lamp and curls up into a tight, worried ball.

\---  
1984

Edge marries Nathan O'Sullivan in a quiet ceremony and almost immediately has second thoughts. On the one hand, getting regular sex for the first time ever is fantastic, and it's wonderful to be close to someone who has nothing to do with U2. On the other hand, Nathan wants children, and Edge isn't nearly as hot on that idea. The band is finally hitting its stride-- the War tour was more successful than any of them had ever imagined it would be, and they have plans to record their next album with Brian Eno. Edge thinks that her getting pregnant would only serve to screw the band royally.

On the other other hand, sex is great. Edge really had no idea. Plus, guilt-free now that she's married and legal and all that stuff. Not that that really matters, it's not like she could ever actually say "sex is great" in an interview or anything. There are quite a few things she can't ever say in an interview.

And oh, the interviews. Edge really thinks the press might have got past the "goodness, you're a woman!" stage by now, but then again, it's the press.

_Q: So what's it like, being a woman in one of the hottest new bands in the world?  
A: [pause] ...It's great. Bono, Adam, and Larry are real mates; it's the best job I could have._

They might as well ask her, "what's it like, being a woman?" Because honestly. The Irish rags are the worst, though.

_Q: Now that you're married, of course you plan to give up U2, correct?  
A: Absolutely not. My husband supports me and my career. I love the band and I wouldn't give it up for the world._

What the hell did they expect her to say? "Yes, it was all just a lark, and now I'm going to go live in the country with my husband and I'll squeeze out as many children as possible"? Evidently. Bono's married and no one expects _him_ to give up the band. She has to laugh about it because it's just so ridiculous.

Until they start recording Unforgettable Fire, and Edge discovers she's pregnant. She breaks the news at a band meeting, and barely keeps herself from giggling as she watches expressions of "oh fuck" slide across everyone's faces.

It works out, in the end. They hand in the masters a few months before Edge is due, and push the tour back a few months, to start in mid-October instead of late August. It's not what they had planned originally, but it works. And it turns out, Edge kind of likes being a mum.

\---  
1986

It's Hollie's second birthday, and they're all in the back garden with the kid, having fun spoiling her. Larry's got her on his lap, making ridiculous faces and tickling her so she giggles silly baby giggles. Adam's got the camera, and he's taking sneaky shots whenever Hollie does something adorable, or Larry does something worthy of blackmail. Bono hovers around Larry, begging to have a turn with Hollie.

Edge and Nathan gather up the empties and the dirty dishes. It's comfortable, companionable married couple stuff. Until they get back in the kitchen and Nathan says, "Edge, may I have a word?"

She's thrown by the seriousness of his tone and the rather formal phrasing. "Of course."

Nathan folds his arms and leans against the sink. "I don't want you touring this next album."

"What?" Edge can't quite believe what she's hearing. "I don't understand--" She glances out the kitchen window at the lads and Hollie. "Is now really the time for this discussion?"

"I'm serious. You're away so often, and when you're not away, you're busy with the band, and I want to be a family."

"We're not a family? Nathan, I don't understand, you told me when we got married that you had no problems with my career and everything, and now, years later, you've decided to change your mind?"

"I never changed my mind, Edge. This isn't what I signed up for."

Edge is silent a moment. "Well, it's what we've got, isn't it? I'm sorry that the success of my band didn't figure into your plans, but--" She stops suddenly, rocked by a bolt of intuition. "No, you don't want me to only stop touring. You want me to quit U2."

Nathan sighs heavily. "I just want us to be a family."

"We are a family!" Edge thumps the refrigerator with the heel of one hand. "Me, you, Hollie, we're a family. Just... a slightly nontraditional one." She smiles weakly, pleading with Nathan to see the humor.

He doesn't return the smile.

Edge slumps back against the fridge door. "I'm not ready to give up on us, all right? But neither am I willing to sacrifice one part of my life for another."

"Hollie and I mean that little to you, then."

"No!" Edge clenches her fists in frustration. "Nathan, why can't I have the incredible career _and_ the beautiful family? Because I'm a woman. Ali and Bono are thinking about kids, and she's not asking him to quit the band." She sighs, and lowers her voice. "I love my life, and I know I'm luckier than I've any right to be." She moves to stand close in front of him, and takes his hand. "Know what I mean?"

Edge is impossibly relieved when Nathan nods. "You should want it, Edge. You should. I'm just worried about _us_."

Edge holds his hand tighter. "I'm not giving up. Are you?"

Nathan shakes his head and pulls her into a hug. "Right, then. Let's deal with this mess your lads left us."

\---  
1989

Larry's "jukebox" quote has appeared in almost every print media they've heard of, which is frustrating, yet far more frustrating is the fact that he's right. And how ungrateful is that, Edge thinks. They're top of the heap, the best of the best, more successful and popular than their wildest dreams, and all they can say for themselves is they're bored?

But it's true, they are. The same songs, the same setlists, the same stage, even the same audience, but for the language (occasionally). Edge relies on music to lift her up, rescue her from stagnation, but lately it isn't happening. The songs have stopped being feelings and imperatives, and have become just chords, just metal strings and miles of cable.

Larry's frustrated, Edge is depressed, Adam's bored, and Bono's exhausted. So they decide, as a band, that something needs to change. Their New Year's concert in Dublin is as much a party as it is a show, and Bono's semi-cryptic remark about dreaming it all up again has everyone convinced U2 is finished.

Nathan meets her backstage after the show. "You should have told me!"

"Told you what?" Edge is disoriented, still in the frame of mind of the show; across the room, Bono and Adam have popped open a bottle of champagne and are toasting everyone from the audience to the Lord Mayor of Dublin City to the inventor of the amp tube, and Edge can think of nothing she'd like more than a glass. And then a few more.

"That you guys are breaking up." Nathan's smiling, like it's good news or something. "I mean, I'm sorry and everything, but--"

"We're not."

"What?"

"We're not breaking up. Where the hell did you hear that?" Edge wants champagne. And a shower. And then a long, long afterparty. Without Nathan.

"During the show. Bono just said--"

"Bono runs his mouth and always has." Edge shuts her eyes against Nathan, the champagne, and everyone hustling around backstage. "We just-- need a new direction. We're not breaking up." She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Look-- I'm gonna--"

"Right, go have your party. I'll be at home."

Edge watches Nathan leave. "Fuck it. Just _fuck it_." She goes to get herself a glass of champagne.

\---  
1991

For a minute there, Edge honestly thought the band was going to break up. Berlin had been fucking wretched, but suddenly _One_ had dropped into their laps like a gift from God. That night Edge had sent a sincere 'thank you' toward the ceiling.

The band packs up and goes back to Dublin to continue work on the new album. Relationships and feelings within the band are still far from ideal, but it's much better than that winter in Berlin.

Or the O'Sullivan household, for that matter. Nathan is increasingly resentful of Edge's schedule, her absence from home, the band's demands on her time, and the fact that he's become a house husband. Their arguments, while quiet, have become bitter and mean. Despite their intentions, they snipe at each other in front of Hollie. Edge stays awake long after Nathan goes to bed at night, wondering what they're going to do.

When Nathan finally tells Edge he's through, it's almost a relief. She can feel her heart break as she nods her agreement, but there's also a small spark of liberation running through her as she packs boxes full of her stuff.

Which leads to guilt when she thinks about Hollie, which leads to even more guilt and a little nausea at the thought of her daughter growing up with even less of a mother than she already has.

Edge checks into a hotel room for the night, and considers getting thoroughly pissed. She doesn't, but she ends up staying awake the whole night. Room service appears in the form of coffee in a very large carafe. She drinks all of it while watching the city brighten, and then goes in to the studio, eyes red and tired but dry.

One thing Adam, Larry, and Bono are not is subtle, and Edge watches them sneak glances at her and at each other all morning. She has absolutely no desire to bring it up, so she works, and waits for them to ask her what her problem is.

It doesn't take long. They're all over her once they break for lunch. "So what the fuck, Edge?" Bono lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag. "Any particular reason you chose to come in looking like shit this morning?"

No time like the present. "Nathan left me." _See, that was easy_. "Well, we left each other."

Bono extinguishes his newly lit fag in his water glass. "Fuck."

"What about Hollie?" Larry asks.

"We don't know yet. It only just happened last night." Edge sips at her water. "I'm at a hotel."

"No, you're not." Adam lights two cigarettes and hands one to a fidgeting Bono. "You're staying in my guest house."

"Adam--"

"You don't get to argue this one. After we're done this evening, get your things from the hotel, and I'll meet you at home."

"Look, why don't you just do it now?" Bono fiddles with his cigarette. "We can knock off for the day, it's not a big deal."

Edge looks into her bandmates' faces. "I don't have a choice here, do I?"

Adam, Bono, and Larry all shake their heads.

"Thanks, guys."

\---  
1991

They stumble into the guesthouse, hanging on each other, drunk and giggling. Adam reaches out to turn a light on, and Edge flops down onto the couch. "You guys shouldn't have done that."

"Hey, you deserve it. Single now for two months!" Adam opens a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Congratulations." He hands a glass to Edge and they clink them together.

"Any excuse to party. So predictable." Half the glass is gone before Edge realizes. "Not that it had anything to do with turning in the masters, right?"

"'m not kidding, Edge. You're happier now." Adam gets up off the couch and grabs Edge's hand. "Come on, dance with me."

"There's no music." But Edge lets Adam pull her up into a silly, teetering waltz anyway. "You know, I think we might be drunk."

"Yes, I believe you might be right." Adam stops the dance suddenly, and Edge loses her balance and lurches forward into Adam's arms.

The next thing she knows, Adam pulls her close and kisses her.

It's shocking and sort of inevitable, all at once. Edge closes her eyes and kisses him back. In her head, a tiny voice tells her that she's drunk and this is an extremely bad idea, but Edge is distracted by the feeling of Adam's mouth on hers and the tiny voice disappears.

It's a good kiss. It's a fucking great kiss, really. _Nathan never kissed me like this,_ Edge finds herself thinking. She slides her arms around Adam's neck and stops thinking altogether.

Edge wakes to the odd sensation of someone else in the bed with her. It didn't take her long to acclimate to solitary sleeping, and the nearness of another body is strange.

She turns over, half-expecting to see Nathan in her sleepy haze. Adam's body, where it isn't covered by the sheet, is lean and golden in the late morning sun. He shifts and stretches, and smiles a sweet, hung over version of his unusual smile when he sees her. Memories of the night before flood her brain, and Edge tugs the sheet up a little, making sure she's decently covered. She can feel her face flush. _Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. Fuck._

"Morning." Adam rolls onto his side and leans in, obviously aiming for a kiss. Edge pulls back, clutching the sheet, eyes wide. Adam blinks, and his smile fades. "Right." He swings his feet onto the floor and stands nude, leaving the sheet crumpled on the bed.

"Adam--"

"I'll just go make some coffee." Adam pulls a bathrobe down from the door and leaves the room.

Edge sits for a moment, mind whirling, feeling like a complete shit, and then jumps out of bed to throw on an old tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She rushes out to the kitchen, where Adam is indeed making coffee. "Adam? I think we need to talk, don't you?"

"You don't have to explain, Edge, you've made yourself perfectly clear." Adam sets two mugs on the counter and gets the cream out of the fridge.

"No, Adam, I really haven't." She stalls for time, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "It isn't you." Adam snorts a soft laugh, but Edge plows on. "And it isn't me, either. What do you think will happen to the band if we-- continue this?"

Adam finally turns to look at her. "Do you want to continue this?"

"Not if it's going to affect the band. And it will, there's no way it can't."

"But do you want to?"

"That's not the point."

Adam pours the coffee, adds cream to Edge's, and hands it to her. He stays silent for what seems like a lifetime, drinking his coffee and looking out the kitchen window. "Edge... my feelings about you aren't exactly a secret." He drinks his coffee, the silence extending painfully for Edge. "Since we were kids..." Adam puts his half-empty mug in the sink, and Edge watches him struggle for words. "And last night. Last night I thought I'd _finally_... But I see I was wrong." He sighs, and Edge hadn't known it was possible to feel worse.

"I'm sorry." Adam looks defeated, and it's all Edge can do not to reach out and pull him into a hug. "You can see how this isn't right, can't you? I love you, but-- but I don't feel the way you do. And last night wasn't right." She grips her mug tighter, letting the warmth leach into her hands. "And the band. I mean, if the press found out..."

"No, Edge. You're right about the band, anyway." Adam lights a cigarette from a pack on the counter, a picture of composure. "Last night certainly won't happen again, and if it makes you feel better, we can just pretend nothing happened at all. But... well, at least you know how I feel."

"I have known, Adam. Since we were kids."

\---  
1993

_[excerpted from U2 At The End Of The World by Bill Flanagan]_

I hate to bring up the obvious, but let's talk about the woman thing.

"'The woman thing!'" Edge laughs. "It's so much less of an issue now than it was in, say, '81. Even then, a female pop star wasn't completely unheard of-- I'm thinking Patti Smith, and The Runaways-- but women in the business tend to be the focus. Solo artists like Madonna, for example. My role in U2 as musician as opposed to frontman-- frontperson?-- was, and still is, a bit of an anomaly. There's me, and Tina Weymouth [of Talking Heads], I think."

Tell me about how it was for you in the early days of U2.

"Difficult. Exciting, confusing, scary, brilliant. Keep in mind, none of us knew what the hell we were doing in the late seventies and early eighties. We hadn't a clue, so we found something that worked and stuck with it. And we stuck with it even after finding out that what we were doing was not at all what anyone else in the business was doing. In those days, we made a point of focusing on my playing. If I had been expected to be up in front, a Debbie Harry [of Blondie], or even a Nancy Wilson [of Heart], I would not be in a band, or the music business at all. That's not what I do." Edge pauses for a moment. "I refused to be 'the girl guitarist,' you know, a gimmick. And I doubt we'd be as successful as we are if I had allowed myself to be labeled like that.

"The guys were pretty much always great about it. I mean, there was a bit of sexism at the very beginning and it wasn't easy when my brother Dik quit the band. But Bono, Adam, and Larry have always supported me and stuck up for me. Even when I asked them to knock it off."

Why would you do that?

"Being a woman in the business means having to work harder, put in more hours, and be better than your male counterparts just to be taken seriously. There's only so much the band can do. Someone's always going to criticize me, accuse me of riding coattails, and that sort of thing just gets worse when the guys try to defend me. So I can't be just as good as men in other bands. I have to be better. Which is why I developed my own sound with the Memory Man. I couldn't get away with sounding like anyone else; I had to sound like nothing you'd ever heard. It was my way of defending myself.

"If I didn't have the band's support, I honestly don't know if I could deal with the bullshit, or even want to. I have immense respect for women like Madonna who are superstars without the support of a band."

How do you feel about your lead vocal on a single and starring in the video?

Edge chooses her words carefully. "It isn't the first time I've taken the lead vocal on a song, but it is the first time the song's been a single. I'm pleased with Numb; I'm proud of the lyrics and I think the video is creative and interesting. And because of it, Bono's spotlight has drifted onto me just a little. The attention is... new. I'm not used to it. Singing isn't something I'd want to do regularly. Bono is the frontman; I don't want to split the spotlight with him. But as far as musical experimentation goes, I'm glad we did it."

Got any words of wisdom for aspiring young women musicians?

"Gee, Bill, you make me sound like some sort of authority on the subject." She looks a little sheepish. "But yeah. Don't ever let them tell you 'no'. You wanna do it, then fucking do it and don't give up." Edge undergoes a slight transformation as she speaks. She never looks unfriendly or antagonistic, but one hand curls into a fist and the set of her face becomes more determined and intense. "It won't be easy, not with the way things are now. But there will never be positive change if nobody ever tries. You have to be committed, talented, and willing to work your ass off. But if you are, and if you're also lucky, success is possible."


End file.
